Sacrifices
by Theresalwaysthatone
Summary: Many people forget about who made the legends. Each hero brings their own story, and each, a sacrifice. They may be remembered for what they did, but never what they lost. Never what they felt. Explore the truth of five characters, everything they lost to keep Pyrrhia safe, and how it shaped them.


**Gods above and below help me, for it is finished**  
** 9,500 words, 5 characters, and hopefully more emotion than any of my other pieces. I have slaved on this for weeks now, painstakingly crafting each sentence, carefully placing each word. It's a story, with a short scene from 5 different characters from Wings of Fire who have all sacrificed something for others.  
Some brief things to mention. Turtle didn't gain his powers back in this alternate timeline. I really didn't like that he did in the cannon series, so I kept him without powers. I also didn't realize that pretty much all of what I wrote in that part was already in the epilogue of the last book, so the scene with Turtle was pointless. I liked it though, so I don't care. Also I copied Fathom's part from Past Riddle Aftermath, a previous story of mine, for there's no other way I could have written it, and I really wanted Fathom to be in here. Clearsight's part really bends what's cannon, but that's what flowed onto the page, so I have no intentions on changing it.  
Enjoy it, learn from it, weep from it, understand it. I wrote this to express something, and I hope I achieved what I wanted to.  
Also please, please notify me if there are any typos or any other plot holes I might have missed. I want this to be conceivable as a possible extension that can coexist with what's cannon, minus Turtle's part. Especially Clearsight's story. Technically there's nothing saying that the scene couldn't have happened, but since it's nestled between two important events, there might be something I missed. Speaking of which, I tried to experiment with a new writing style in Clearsight's part, which is probably why it seems very different from my previous writing.  
Also reeee, Starflight's is so short**

**I really should start indenting my stories instead of leaving them double spaced, but I'm too lazy**

Y_ou've probably heard of each dragon that will be mentioned here. We've changed the history of Pyrrhia. We shaped the world with our talons. We've saved those that we love. And there's one thing we all have in common; we all sacrificed something. Whether it be our friendship, our mentality, our identity, or our own physical being, we've all sacrificed something. We sacrifice ourselves to save others. But those who are still alive, will continue to suffer. A never-ending sacrifice of pain. We've shaped the world, molded the future. Each action will have a consequence. Each dragon, a sacrifice. Everyone always talks of our tales, the legends. They forget who we really are. We may look like heros, act like heros, but deep down inside we're just people. We're just people, and it hurts._

**Starflight**

_Morrowseer reared up, a spark of fire burning in his maw. The black dragon had his wings extended, and fury in his eyes. The spark grew bigger. And bigger. And bigger. The hissing of his fire breath audible as flames built up, ready to shoot out in a jet. Suddenly the volcano exploded. Rocks burned through the air at high speeds, and a smothering cloud of ash shot up into the heavens. The soundwave hit him, an earsplitting crack that dug into his skull, leaving behind a dull ringing. His vision became hazy, the ground shuddering under him in an effort to stay intact. He pushed a dragon into the tunnel, and then a second one, disregarding his own safety. A wave of fire roared through the air, torching everything it touched. He started running away, trying to escape. And then the fire enveloped him. A burning agony, like daggers in his eyes. The only thought was of the unfathomable pain that blazed in his skull. The world was gone. Black. The void. All he was aware of was the flames searing through his pupils._

Instinctively, Starflight tried to open his eyes. The world was still black. A darkness as thick as cotton. He slowly reached up, and gingerly touched the wrapping covering his eyes. Reality gripped him. He was in the library. The Nightwing had passed out on his desk as he sorted out scrolls late into the night. He sighed, and stood up, the nightmare still etched into his memory. If only it really was just a nightmare. If only it was just one big, terrible dream. Some days he'd hope that it was all a figment of his imagination, and that he'd wake up back in the Rainforest infirmary, able to take in all the colors. The only thing he ever saw was that empty light he had learned to hate. Starflight grimaced and started cleaning up his desk. He put the scrolls into their correct slots, each location painfully memorised. Over the past year of him being in the academy, he had ever so carefully constructed a mental image of the library. Each scroll slot, each bookshelf, each table, each desk, all were mentally built in his head. After the scrolls were organised, he straightened up all of the various quill pens that were thrown around. There were several of them littered over his desk, presumably from the students when the lazily returned them. As he was picking up the pens, he knocked over a stack of parchment onto the stone floor, and he winced as he heard the papers scatter over the ground. "Of all the three moons." The librarian cursed. He took a deep breath and walked to the other side of the desk, searching for the lost papers with clumsy claws.

"Need help?"

Starflight could recognise that teasing voice anywhere. He smiled faintly. "Fatespeaker… I didn't think you'd be up so late."

He heard a rustle of claws and parchment next to him as the other Nightwing started picking up the papers. "I could say the same thing. What are you doing up so late?"

Starflight hesitated. "It was just a dream… and the scrolls. I guess I got carried away with sorting." He sighed. "You'll be surprised by how many students don't put away their stuff."  
He heard a chuckle from Fatespeaker. "Actually, I'm not surprised. It's what I expected from a school like this. Also who would have guessed that sleeping on a desk would lead to a restless sleep." She said, poking fun at him.

Starflight couldn't help but smile at her. Then the memories resurfaced, and the smile quickly faded away.

Fatespeaker seemed to notice however. "Starflight, is there something you're not telling me?" She asked softly.

"The dream… It wasn't just any dream… It was the volcano… I wasn't able to sleep." He shuddered.

"Some things are best forgotten." She pointed out, growing serious. "The volcano wasn't the end of the world."

Starflight looked in her direction. "To you... " He paused. "Fatespeaker… how do you stay so positive? How is it that you can look at all of the things that happen in the world, all the pain, and still stay so strong?"

"Because as bad as things are, they could have been a lot worse." Again, wisdom flowed from her mouth. "You're still here, aren't you?"

Starflight heard his mate set down the papers on the desk in their original place. "I'm just… I'm lost, in several ways. My mind has taken to sailing upon dangerous thoughts. Thoughts I try to bury, but that refuse to sink."

Starflight felt Fatespeaker nudge him gently. "Maybe you should try a different approach. Let it out. Tell me, what is it you think about?"

The Nightwing reached to his cloth bandages. "This." He said quietly. "I've hid it for so long, but the never ending darkness is terrifying. I'm starting to lose who I am…"

Starflight heard a scrape of talons, and he guessed she had changed positions. "Starflight, you did the right thing, you need to tell yourself that."

"Fatespeaker… I can't _do_ anything. I'm a cripple. I rely on others to keep myself up. I'm just a burden… just a weight someone has to carry around…" He said with a choked breath. "The volcano wasn't the end of the world… but it was the end of my life. Who am I now? I'm just a blind, helpless librarian who relies on others to stay alive…"

He felt a wing over his shoulder. "Starflight, how many times do I have to say this? You are not a burden to anyone, especially not to me. Don't tell yourself that. You know as well as I do that I would have taken your place at that volcano. What you did saved dragons. You saved me. Don't forget that. And you're not just a helpless librarian. You're so much more."

Starflight nodded. He paused, lost in thought. "I'll never see the light of the sun again… I'll never see the green of the grass, or the rainbow of flowers, or your face again… Fatespeaker… I've… I'm afraid I'll forget what you look like. What everyone looks like." He was shivering. "Fatespeaker…. I'm scared…"

The Nightwing took Starflight and pulled him into an embrace. "Starflight… I'll never leave you. It hurts me to see you in pain like this, and you know I would take that pain if I could. Anything that would alleviate your suffering, I would gladly do. You know that, don't you?"

"I… I know… it's just… I don't know what I'm going to do. Am I just going to be the school librarian for the rest of my days? I know I've always wanted to be around scrolls, always wanted to teach, but that was before the volcano. Now I just sit in this room, sorting stories I can't read as I'm painfully reminded of what I used to love doing." He sighed.

Fatespeaker let go of him, and he picked up the faint rustle of scales, which would had been impossible for him to hear a year ago. "I wish I knew, if only to comfort you… But… just know, whatever happens, I'll be by your side." She paused, a small gasp escaping from her, and the sound of paper reached him. She grabbed his talons and guided him along the the library.

"Fatespeaker, don't worry, I've memorised the-"

He was silenced by a claw over his mouth. "Shh. Don't ruin the moment." She said, a hint of her former self returning. She stopped on a soft pile of cushions, and slowly laid down, gently guiding Starflight down beside her. She carefully twined her tail with his, and Starflight had the feeling she was smiling. "I know you can't really read anymore… and I'm sure it can get awfully boring in here… So what do you say to me reading you something? I even picked out your favorite scroll."  
Starflight nodded with a faint smile.

**Winter**

_My name is Winter. I used to be the prince of the Icewings. My life revolved around the rankings. My world was isolated in that cursed palace. I clawed my way up. So many, many times have I been shamed by my family. Countless times I have been shamed by the other Icewings. I wanted to show them I wasn't who they thought I was. I wasn't some weak dragon pretending to be an Icewing._

_It's funny in a way, because they were correct._

_I know where it all fell apart. I kept myself up after losing Hailstorm, but just barely. I was fragile, only a thin layer of ice. As soon as I saw Moonwatcher, I was doomed. Looking back, I think it was for the better. I don't think I knew who I was. Heh… I still don't know who I am, even now. I know who I'm not though, and that might be just as important._

_Words are a poor, poor substitute for true emotions. So flawed, so refracted. They never tell the full story. I'll try though._

_Believe me, I have a lot to say._

_How do I start this? How about the beginning? And I'm not talking about my hatching. The real beginning in my life was that first day in the academy. Be strong, be vigilant, strike first. That's what was embedded in my head since I could walk. I lived my whole life, worshiping that thrice-cursed saying. Nightwings were our sworn enemy, we had learned to hate them from the bottom of our souls. To loathe their entire existence. And there I was, falling for one. Sometimes I think my life is just one big, crude joke. The gods taunting me. It was as I was looking into her eyes, her fearful yet determined eyes, that I saw a perfect reflection of myself. I saw myself gazing back, and I was scared. Was I so weak as to stoop as low as this Nightwing? Back then I saw it not as a sign of humanity, but as a sign of weakness. I was weak, and I was scared. Who was I really?_

_I'm Winter. But who am I really?_

_Looking back, I remember how poorly I had handled my first interaction with Moon. There's really no other way to put it. I was a bit of a bitch. Threatening a defenseless dragonet, merely because I felt the need to, yelling at her, and even hurting her. The memories of that moment hurt me as much as it did her. I hate myself for what I did, I hate myself for how I treated her, I hate myself for hurting her. There is nothing I wish more than to go back in time to that day, and tell her how sorry I am. How sorry I am for everything that I did and will do. I had been taught to hate, and to hate to love. Never had I been taught to care. I had to learn that myself._

_As I've said, I was doomed from the start. I wanted Hailstorm back so bad, to amend for all the mistakes I made, but I wasn't willing to take an innocent life. Anyone else, any other Icewing wouldn't have hesitated. I didn't just hesitate, I stopped her. I betrayed my own kin just so that a blind Nightwing could live. I remember looking back and thinking to myself about how much of an idiot I was. I hated myself. The choices I made, and the things I said. I thought I could do everything by myself. I thought I didn't need any help. Why would a bunch of misfit dragonets want to help me with something that wasn't even their problem? I'm an Icewing. We're the best tribe in Pyrrhia, and everyone is inferior to us. Right?_

_What a joke._

_I've always been so wrapped up in my own little universe, always batting a blind eye to the real world, I was never able to see the truth. It was only once I was free in the real world that I finally started seeing how warped my reality was. I was fed the lies from my tribe, and I eagerly drank it all up. Or maybe that was how the tribe truly saw the world, and they honestly believed what they said. In that case, I fear for them more._

_Every Icewing dragonet grew up hearing of Foeslayer, the Nightwing who stole all of our aminus magic by taking our prince. We grew up learning that the Nightwings were no more than backstabbing traitors who will do anything just to get more power. They could never be trusted. Yet there I was, tracking my own sister, with a Nightwing watching over me. And I found I trusted her more than anyone else I knew. When she said to go to the talons of peace, I trusted her._

_My life has been so confusing, so conflicting, sometimes it's hard to look back. I remember how I felt when I discovered that Hailstorm was alive after all, that moment of pure disbelief. I remember how I felt when Moon was attacked, the rage and hatred at her attacker. And as much as I used to hate to admit, I remember how I felt when Kinkajou was wounded, the stab of genuine worry when I discovered what happened. Fragments of that scene that play out in my mind over and over again, yet I can never examine each one separately. The next shard of memory that surfaces is the clawing mind of Pyrite inside my head, scraping through my brain, walking the never-ending circle of self-loathing and loyalty._

_Maybe I hated it because I saw how I truly looked like. A reflection of how I felt, only with a slower mind._

_Be strong, be vigilant, strike first, trust no one. Lie after lie I spun to myself, false sentences that I tried to pretend were true. It pained me to leave, it hurt to see how much it hurt, but I was scared not to. I had not yet accepted what I would become. Hailstorm wasn't like me though, he had a place to call his own without shame. So I followed him, more out of fear for what I was becoming than anything else. I had forgotten how restricting the Ice Kingdom was, the shackles my society placed on me. After so long being free, I had taken it for granted. Just like my life… I never in my wildest dreams thought I'd be challenged in the Diamond Trials, save for if I was on the requesting end. And it seemed my parents had a cruel sense of humor. What could be more exciting than fighting for your life against the very brother you just saved?_

_There's nothing more terrifying than knowing you're about to die, and knowing you'll never say all that you wanted to. I was afraid to die not because of death itself, but what I'd lose with it. The memories that made me who I am. The memories of all my adventures. The memories of Moon._

_Of course, I didn't die, or else I wouldn't be here telling you all of this. If I did, then I wouldn't have to bear the agony every day of what I've done. I managed to convince Hailstorm to have mercy on me, as I never planned on returning ever again. Then once he was gone, I learned the truth. The feud between our tribes was nothing but a lie. Everything suddenly seemed so pointless. Foeslayer never intended on leaving behind two-thousand years of hate. She just wanted to be with the one she loved. Once, I would have scoffed at the explanation. The tribe went above all else. Why would I put something as pointless as love above my own kingdom? But those thoughts no longer trailed in my mind. I understood. I understood, for I was leaving my own tribe as much for my own life as I was for Moon's. A world with her in it was a world worth living for, a world worth the endless pain._

_The encounter with Peril hurt. I had just escaped the claws of death to only yet again face it's snarling head. I knew I could have died in the Trial, but at least I escaped unscaved, if not mentally, then physically. The burns were the most agonising thing I had felt. So painful that I couldn't even part with my final secret. Yet again I was disappointed, for fate must have decided to give me a miracle. At the time, I loathed Peril, and even to this day I still feel the twinge of anger burning through me whenever I see her. Now though, I only think to myself, in grim humor, 'well that's karma.'_

_Yet again I seem to turn to my violent ways. I hate myself, but I don't know how to show it. So instead I take it out on others. Classic definition of a bully. I yelled at Moon. I told her how stupid she was, how wrong she was. Darkstalker was evil, and that was one thing I still believed. I couldn't let her help a monster escape. But there's so many other ways I could have told her._

_And then I attacked Qibli. I couldn't really told you what transpired while I was under the spell's influence, but I do know what happened when I broke free. The feeling of pure shame, guilt, and regret will never leave me, that much I know. I had hurt my friend, using my own icy breath. And there was no one to blame but myself. All of this, but it was nothing compared to the regret I felt when I harassed her about the foul Darkstalker in his own kingdom. I guess I can never learn how to be civilized. The frozen wastelands I grew up seem to still stay in me, whether I like it or not._

_There's nothing I can say about the fight above the academy. Some already forget it even happened, as quick as it was._

_Now I'm here. Banished from my own tribe, living with the Talons of Peace. Why am I telling you all of this, all of these fragmented memories, so vague and abstract? Why am I giving you my whole life story, in broken sentences and shattered thoughts? So that whoever reads this can understand. I've changed. Don't trust what you might read about me, for I'm sure by now the Icewing's have corrupted my story, just another reason to obey. This is the truth. I now realise how much more there is to others. I believe I'm no longer as harsh as I used to be. There's a lot more to me though, a lot of twists, complicated knots of emotions. I hide my true feelings, now that there are others who expect the kind, calm Winter I have became._

_This isn't a giant excuse, an explanation of why I did what I did. This is an apology. An apology to all that I might have hurt, whether with words or claws. An apology to Qibli, an apology to Kinkajou, an apology to Turtle, Foeslayer, Hailstorm, all the teachers at the academy, but most importantly, an apology to Moonwatcher. Moon… If… If you're reading this… if you ever hear this… I just want you to know how sorry I am. How sorry I am for yelling at you, hurting you, threatening you, letting you down, distrusting you, and hating you. I'm so, so sorry. I wish, more than anything, to go back, to restart all over again, and to try to be the dragon you always believed in. It hurts. Every time I look back, every time I remember what I did, my frozen heart cracks a bit more. There's no way you can even consider forgiving me, but I wanted to tell you all the same. You can not believe how much it hurts, how much the pounding of my self-hatred, my countless mistakes, wears me down. Moon, please… you can never forgive me… but please… never forget me. I regret everything, from the bottom of my soul, and I'd get rid of everything if only it meant a second chance. I love you… More than you can ever imagine. Every time I see Qibli with you, it's like a dagger through my heart. It hurts…_

_I've changed, but in doing so I lost everything I love. I hope you and Qibli are happy, without my foul words or harsh acts. Good luck, for you'll need it more than I ever will. I've lost my true battle. He has won your heart. Now all that's left is to see where life takes me. Maybe you'll see me again, or maybe you won't. I guess we'll find out._

**_-Prince Winter of the Icewings; Message left in Sanctuary, 5014 A.S._**

**Turtle**

_Talons of Power,_  
_Yet constantly in fear._

For most of Turtle's life, his day consisted of looking out the window, dreaming about being a hero, and trying not to gather the attention of others. He fantasized about writing stories; stories that captivated his audience, stories that he could share to the world, stories that he could show his mother, and maybe even being the main character in someone else's. Then his time to shine arrived, the moment to show the world what he was capable of doing. He could almost see the scrolls written about him. "Turtle the Hero," "The Seawing Prince Who Saved the Tribe," and other, more elegant, titles he could only imagine.

But then he failed.

The one time, the perfect moment, and he threw it all away. He had failed his father, his mother, his tribe, and his unborn sister. He was a disappointment, not a hero. Turtle tore apart all of his scrolls he had so carefully crafted, and pledged never to write again, to never try to be anyone special. He laid low, and tried to keep away from the questioning stares of others. It worked. He was a nobody, just a presence at the palace. His brother's paid no attention to him, his mother never noticed him, and his sister forgot he existed.

Until he was enrolled into the academy, and all of that was thrown out the window.  
Until he started caring for other dragons.

Suddenly his whole world was upturned, all his previous life virtues blown away. They discovered his secret, and they expected him to be the hero he had sworn against. Turtle knew he wasn't a hero, he knew he wasn't a dragon of legends. He was a background character, he was the one who died for dramatic effect. Despite all of this, all of his protests, his friends still seemed to think he was the second coming of Clearsight. He tried to explain, to show them why he wasn't who they thought he was, but they wouldn't listen. Reluctantly, he agreed. He tried to be the main character, the adventurer they expected him to be.

Yet again, he failed. He let them down. He let the whole world down.

He didn't stop Darkstalker, he didn't save his sister, didn't atone for his mistakes, and he didn't protect Kinkajou. All he could do was keep them and himself alive, and even then he had somehow failed.

Turtle was alive, but he had lost part of his life.

Claws clacked against the polished stone floor. The air in the tunnel was stiff, yet had a cold nip to it. A Seawing walked through the hall, his rich green scales sticking out from the obsidian-like walls. It was night, and few students wandered the corridors. Dimly lit lamps illuminated the hall, casting shadows that preyed on the light. The Seawing had just came from the underground pool, and beads of water still clung to his wings. He sighed, before turning into a cave dug into the wall, entering the room. Three nest-like objects were built into the wall, each built out of a different material. Two were empty, and the third one housed a Rainwing, who was diligently working on homework. The then-blue Rainwing turned around, hearing the Seawing walk in. Her scales rippled from blue to a light pink, and her face lit up with joy. "Turtle!"

The Seawing smiled meekly and bowed his head. "In the flesh."

The Rainwing bounded over to him and pulled him into an embrace, surprising the Seawing prince. She let go of him and then looked up into his eyes. "Where have you been?!" She demanded. "You disappeared for a week without telling me anything! You could at least warn me next time you vanish from the academy without a trace. I was getting worried I'd have to clobber a few dragons to rescue you. Yet again, I might point out." She teased lightly, although the concern in her eyes were far from fake.

"Relax Kinkajou. My mother insisted that I paid a visit to the kingdom. There was no way I was getting out of it. Then I had to stop at Web's classroom to pick up all of the makeup work I missed, and then I decided to take a bath before coming here. I'm sure you'd much rather wait a few extra minutes than welcome me back after a day of non-stop flying without cleaning myself." Turtle said calmly to his roommate.

"Nah. You always smell like fish. I'm used to it by now." Kinkajou said jokingly.

Turtle felt the familiar pang of self-confidence leave him, before he shook it off, and smiled at her. "Well, I try my best at least."

"I know. That's what I like about you." The sentence was so straightforward, so honest, that Turtle didn't have anything to say, and could only stand there, trying to comprehend what he heard. "Come and sit, I'd love to hear of your glorious adventures without me." The Rainwing proclaimed, sitting down against the wall.

"Sit? What kind of imposter are you? The Kinkajou I know would flap around shouting anything that comes to mind." Turtle jested, sitting down beside her."  
She made a face at him. "Well I'm _trying_ to behave like a sensible dragon, and not some obnoxious Rainwing that everyone always points out. You could at least let me attempt to be normal. You're an expert at that, aren't you?" She teased, sticking out her tongue.  
Turtle looked down at his claws. "Yeah… that's one way to put it."

Kinkajou nudged him with her wing. "Come on Turtle, I'm just playing with you. You're very abnormal. Very unique. Very… interesting."

"Thank's Kinkajou, that's very encouraging. You really know how to make someone feel sure about themselves." The Seawing said with a faint smile, which then faded away. "I'm sorry, I've just been dealing with a lot. The tribe visit was real taxing. I'm exhausted. I thought I would never get away from the queen.

Kinkajou's scales shifted to a less vibrant color. "No no, it's fine…" She paused. "Why did your mother want you back?"  
Turtle hesitated. "Technically I'm not supposed to tell anyone why, but you already know about… Well, pretty much everything I had left to hide." He paused, waiting for her reaction, but she didn't let anything show. "She had heard of my animus powers, although don't ask me how, and demanded I saw her instantly. That's why I didn't tell you where I was going. I thought it was wise to obey your mother, especially if she was also your queen, so I left the moment I had a chance to." He shrugged. "I had to explain everything to her about my adventures during Darkstalker's time. Actually, before that even. I had to tell her about the first animus test, everything I enchanted, everything I did with them, and all of that. I told her of the fight at the beach, the meeting with Darkstalker, and then my… the…. When he took my powers…" He trailed off with a grimace, and lifted his talons, looking over them with sorrow.

The Rainwing's expression softened, and she gently intertwined her tail with his. "Turtle, I know what you're thinking. You did the best you could."  
Turtle looked back at her, feeling himself slip back into the familiar feeling of despair and anger. "But I didn't do anything. I was too much of a coward to use my powers when I had them, and now it's too late. There's so many things I could have done, so many people I could have saved, but I didn't just because I was too scared! Now… Now I'm no one special. No one important. I'm not the hero I've always wanted to be." He managed to say with a wince.

Kinkajou whacked him lightly. "Shut up. Just shut up. Don't say that about yourself. You don't need any special magic to be absolutely amazing in every way. Turtle, you're always special, ok?" The only person who can tell you otherwise is me, and I'd never say that." She declared with utter certainty.

"Well… That's easy for you to say. For all of my life I've wanted to be a hero and a writer, to use my magic, be the savior of my tribe, and write about my adventures and others for future dragons to read. Then _he_ took it all away. _He_ tore it away, _ripped_ my magic from me, and now I'll never be the hero of any story. Do you know what it felt like for my magic to be taken away from me? All my life, I've felt the tingle in my talons, the hum in my mind, the pulse of the universe within me. Now it's just silence. I can't feel anything… And the worst part is, some days I wake up, and think it was for the best. Was I losing my soul? Was I going insane? Maybe he saved me by taking it away." Turtle growled, a sound rare coming from him. "Now I'm powerless. I'll never save anyone. I'm just the helpless fool who amounts to nothing. Cowardly wimp who had the chance to save everything but instead does nothing!" He spat out bitterly.

The Rainwing opened her mouth, then closed it, unsure of what to say. "I… Turtle… I had no idea… I knew you had your magic taken, but I didn't think it was that bad…" Kinkajou studied him carefully, her dark green eyes gazing over him. "Turtle… I'm so sorry you've been put through all of this. I wish more than anything that you wouldn't have to feel this pain… Turtle... No matter what you think, I see you as a hero. You're my hero. You saved me. Hush," She said as the Seawing opened his maw to protest. "I know what you're about to say. Sure, you never jumped in front of me to stop a Sandwing barb from killing me, but you saved my mind from Darkstalker's spells, and you convinced Anemone to heal me. In my eyes, you saved me as much as rescuing me from an erupting volcano." She shuddered, and it was only then that Turtle remembered of her time spent on the Nightwing island. The Rainwing seemed to shake it off however, and instead give him a sweet smile "And I know I'm not really one to judge, saying how I'm definitely not the best reader at the academy, but I think you're a really good writer."  
Turtle felt his scales grow warm, and he shifted positions. "How… How did you find my writing?"  
Kinkajou giggled, her scales flaring with speckles of pink yet again. "Well… you didn't take anything with you, and I may or may not have went through your stuff…" She admitted with a grin. "I thought you had some clever ideas actually. Why don't you write more often? I know you were upset after the prophecy thing, but surely you wrote more before?"  
Turtle closed his eyes for a second, before opening them with a deep breath. "It wasn't just because of the prophecy, it goes back a bit farther. When I was two, my father sent me to find someone. The guard protecting the queen's egg, the one with a princess, fell ill on his watch. I volunteered to help, hoping to save the day or something. Gill sent me to get help, to find the captain of the guard, but I didn't find them in time. Because of me, Orca got to the egg. I swore to never try and be anyone important, and I ceased writing that day. Of course, I've already broken the first part of my vow, what difference does it make to forgo the whole thing? If you… if you truly like what I've scribbled down, I'll be glad to start writing again…"  
"I'd very much like that." Silence soon engulfed them, drawing out for many seconds. Eventually it was broken. "Turtle?"

"Yes Kinkajou?"  
The Rainwing took a deep breath. For once in her life she seemed nervous. "I know it's been an awkward month between us, especially from the Darkstalker fiasco, but I wanted to finally settle it. I know I acted weird under that spell of your sister's," Turtle winced, but she continued. "And I probably said some stuff that I wouldn't have said in hindsight, but… but I still think you're amazing, and wonderful, and beautiful, and just astounding to be around with," Kinkajou rambled on, her pink specks spreading across her scales like ink on paper. "And I was wondering if, I don't know, maybe, possibly, you might be interested in… being together? You know… try it out, see where it takes us?..." She was looking at the floor, trying not to make her blush obvious.

Turtle somehow managed to appear calm. He cupped her snout in his talons, and gently lifted her head till their gaze met, green on green, not trying to hide the warmth on his own cheeks. He smiled softly.

"Kinkajou… I'd love to."

**Clearsight **

A cloudless night. Stars twinkled on the sky's black canvas, a faint reminded of the worlds beyond. A full moon blazed in the heavens, beaming down rays of silver light. A second moon was fading away, only a sliver of it left. The third moon was close to catching up with the first, already over halfway filled. With the reflected light from the moons combined, it was easy to pick out the countless abandoned buildings littered throughout the kingdom. The architecture of the city was stunningly beautiful, and one could only imagine how it looked when it was populated. Now however, the wind cried alone, howling its anguish through the alleyways bitterly. The great palace, once radiating power and riches, now stood empty. The various streetlights, once perpetually lit, now illuminated nothing, only welcoming the hollow darkness.

Yet through the cobbled walkways, a young Nightwing walked down the paved path with heavy paws. A single pouch rested on her neck, tied by some loose string. Her wings were loose, and her tail dragged across the ground. Two silver scales glowed in the moonlight, one under each of her dark eyes. She was one of the few gifted with the powers of the moons, the lunar energy in her blood. She looked exhausted, her eyes almost glazed over. She had flown from the Claws of the Clouds Mountains to the famous Nightwing city as fast as her wings could carry her. She could see the futures, all of them, all laid out in her eyes, yet all tightly intertwined. But she was not here to make one of the futures true. She had already brushed through each thread, just to make sure she wouldn't die by coming here, and then she refused to learn anymore from the sight. For once in her life, she let herself go in blind. She wanted to learn the truth herself, no future-seeing to spoil their secrets in their cold, impersonal way. Such a city was never silent, never so empty. Such a tribe that resided in the city would not be quick to abandon it either. Yet despite this, not a soul was seen. For almost two weeks, the city had been deserted, two weeks of pure silence, save for the birds and the elements. The dragon that walked through the city knew why. She knew better than anyone else in the world.

Her name was Clearsight.

She turned down a path in the middle of the city. The palace laid at the end of the road, looming ahead. After she halved the distance between her and the building, she unfolded her wings, then grimaced as she felt the soreness from them painfully announce their presence. Clearsight jumped into the air, and a gust of wind caught in her outstretched wings. The wind carried her up into the air, and she carefully angled herself towards an open window on the edge of the palace. The Nightwing swooped down, then glided back up in an arc. She flew through the opening, and landed on the floor with a clatter, her claws scraping the ground. The room she found herself in was all too recognisable. A small fountain was nestled in the corner of the room, a trickle of water escaping, originating from some powerful underground spring. A pile of pillows were laid down beside it, a variety of blue and green. Curtains rippled behind her in the wind. All along the room there were puddles of dry candle wax, the candle it came from long since burned out. In the middle of the wall, left to the door, sat a desk. Yet another candle holder stood on the wooden object, empty. Clearsight grabbed a spared candle from a stack in the corner, and breathed a small spark onto the wick. She set the lit candle down on the empty holder on the desk, and then looked around. The room was exactly as she had left it, save for one thing; the Seawing she had last seen with the scroll. Clearsight remembered that look in Fathom's eye when she mentioned what Darkstalker might have done to his love. That was the final thing he left her. She looked under the pillows, then through the bookshelf she had just noticed on the wall left to the window. Whatever she was looking for, she didn't find. The Nightwing let out a sigh, although whether in relief or disappointment, she herself was not sure. Then she noticed something. There was a handle in the desk. Clearsight walked up to the desk and grabbed the indent in the wood. She lifted it up, and the desk opened, revealing a hidden storage compartment. A singular scroll sat in the almost empty space, safely stored away in a jet black casing made of leather. She picked up the scroll gingerly, lifting it up as if she expected something terrible to happen. Which she did, despite her future's reassuring images. She closed the desk, and then carefully undid the top of the cover. With a pop, it came off, and she set it to the side. Then she tilted the cover, and out slid the true scroll. Clearsight's eyes glittered with fear as she slowly spread the parchment out. Several commands were written down on the paper in that same, messy handwriting she had learned to hate. A little before the middle of the writing, the spacing changed. The black sentences that had been written so tightly together shifted to leave space in between. In each space was more, almost illegible writing, drawn onto the paper in ink that seemed to be a faint pink in color. Compared to the enchantments, for that's what they were, spelled out in black, the brighter colored commands were of a darker, more sinister nature. This is what she had been dreading.  
Clearsight had sat watch over the cave in which she had buried her love, waiting for the earthquake she had predicted to arrive. She waited nigh two weeks for the natural disaster to come, so that it could seal shut her own. Clearsight knew that the Lost Continent existed somewhere far out in the ocean, waiting for her, beckoning her, but she wasn't ready to leave her home yet. She knew there was more that Darkstalker had left other than his terror and her broken heart. With Darkstalker now in an eternal sleep, she dared touch his scroll.

Which is why she stood here now, her eyes scanning over the words scribbled out. She had guessed that the scroll was enchanted to hide some of what he wrote, or something like that, but it still hurt to see all that he kept from her. Fathom must have done well, for she doubted that she'd be able to read all the crooked sentences without him. Her thoughts trailed off, remembering the close friend she had. She could only hope that he escaped with Indigo, and that he'd be able to get over what transpired. Clearsight took a deep breath, and opened up the pouch she held. She reached in, and pulled out a small vial. In it was a cloudy white liquid. She set the glass container down and opened it. Then she picked up a quill pen. She dipped the pen into the vial, and then let her hand flow. Carefully, she undid the various spells he laced into the scroll. She worded each sentence as one would if they were writing to a queen, every word purposefully placed. After ten minutes passed, she finally set down the pen. Already the first sentence she wrote faded away, and the others were following. The only spells she left were the ones she couldn't get rid of. The spells with no exceptions. The spells that lasted forever. Clearsight rolled the scroll up, and put it back into its cover, before placing it back into the desk. At first she had regarded the spot as a poor excuse for hiding. On second thought however, she decided that the desk might be the best spot after all, as plain and inconspicuous as it was. Her future-seeing wasn't going to help her this time. Even she wasn't powerful enough to look far enough to see what would happen.

The past few weeks had been too lifeless for her to mourn. She had been too lost in thought, too wrapped up in the futures for her to cry over anything. Yet in the dark of night, illuminated by a single burning candle in a room she had so hoped to forget, that's exactly what she did. For once, she let her worrying, knowing composure crumble, exposing her sad, lost form. She had tried to bury the memories, the emotions, along with Darkstalker, hoping to never think of them again. She knew there was a future out there, a future where she would be happy, content. But she finally did what her love always requested of her; she focused on the present. And the present hurt. She had lost Fathom. She had lost Darkstalker. She had lost Listener. She had lost her parents, and she had never been able to say goodbye. She watched all the awful, the purely evil things Darkstalker did, without being able to help him. It hurt. A tear slid down her snout, then dripped off, falling onto the now empty desk. Sobs echoed the room as she mourned over those she lost. She couldn't bury the emotions, the feelings, the memories, the pain. Eventually, the torrent of emotions ebbed, and she stood up.

Clearsight took a deep breath, and walked over to the window. She extended her wings, before looking back. "Goodbye, my love." Then she jumped out, letting the wind carry her, and then she disappeared into the night sky.

**Fathom**

_My name is Fathom. Prince Fathom of the Seawings._

_A familiar name, correct? You probably know about me. My grandfather made sure of that. Albatross, the insane animus who slaughtered half his family in The Royal Seawing Massacre. Albatross, the Seawing who made animus power illegal in the kingdoms. He will never be forgotten. And neither shall I._

_My name is Fathom. I am the son of Manta and Reef. I am an animus; the second animus of the Seawings. I loved my family. I loved my home. It was forced away from me, by none other than my own grandfather. They will never forget. And neither shall I._

_My name is Fathom. I've seen things no dragon should ever see in their life. I've done things no dragon should ever do in their life. I've made choices no dragon should have to choose from. It haunts me. I can't escape the past. I can't escape them._

_My name is Fathom. I considered Darkstalker my friend. He was the only one I could confide in. But even he was only bent on power. I was an object, an item, just a nuisance that got in his way. He betrayed me. I betrayed him. I broke my promise._

_But I can't escape the past. And it haunts me._

_My name is Prince Fathom of the Seawings. People only talk about the exciting stuff. They only care about a good story. They only care about what the hero does, but never how he feels. They never talk about the consequences. They never talk about how much it hurts._

_It hurts._

_It hurts so, so much._

_I want to escape the past. I long to escape the pain._

_But no one is powerful enough to do that._

_And all I can do is live, and suffer._

A moon was shining through the window, sending rays of white light cascading through the entrance. A second moon was shining, a little less fiercely than the first. The third moon was nowhere to be seen. The window opened into a bedroom of a house. The house itself was rather crudely built, isolated on a small island. Palm trees lined the island, with the sea extending further than the eye could see. Waves lapped at the beach. A few clouds lazily floated through the night sky, stars twinkling on the black canvas. Inside the room was a mattress laid on the floor. Two dragons were resting on the makeshift bed together, both Seawings. One was sea-green, and the other was covered in what seemed like indigo scales. The green dragon tossed around, seeming troubled in his sleep. He mumbled to himself in his slumber, and his eyelids flickered as some unknown scene unraveled in front of him.

_"In order for that to work, you'd probably have to have a soul of your own to begin with."_

The dragon clenched his talons together.

_"...Been such a thorn in my side…"_

He breathing was ragged, coming out in short gasps.

_A different beach, on a different island. The sand was illuminated by torches staked into the sand. Dragons were everywhere, colored various shades of blue and green. Two Skywings were in the crowd, a horrified look on their face. A Seawing dragonet stood in the sand with a shocked expression. Next to him was another dragonet, scales of indigo. A Seawing was twiddling a knife around, rather uninterested in the crowd. His gaze was focused on the knife, and was looking over it with curiosity. Blood covered the blade, and dripped onto the dragon holding it. The Queen of the Seawings was dead on the floor, her throat slashed open. As the Skywings took flight, the knife whipped through the air and slashed at the throat of one, and then stabbed into the heart of another, all without the hand of a dragon holding the knife. Chaos. Blood covering the sand. The stench of death hung heavy in the air, getting stronger each second. No coherent thought flowed through Fathom. No rational emotions or feelings. He was pulled away by Indigo. The screams of the dying as dragons tried to save themselves or the ones they loved, to no avail. His parents… Indigo dragged him under a boat, and the two held their breath, terror flowing off them in waves. The screaming stopped. A suffocating silence. Then the creaking of wood. A shadow was cast upon the boat. Taunting words, laced with malicious humor. And suddenly the boat was sent flying, and landed to the side of them. Fathom would never forget the look of utter insanity laid out in his grandfather's eyes. Suddenly Indigo threw herself on Albatross with a growl, shouting for Fathom to run. His grandfather lashed out wildly, enraged. Fathom couldn't leave. He couldn't leave her. She was going to die. She was going to die. He summoned all the energy he had, all the power within him, and uttered the fatal sentence. The first spear. The second spear. As the spears struck Albatross, he threw his claws across Indigo's throat. Fathom could only watch in absolute horror as the razor sharp digits tore through her flesh. Fathom could only watch the pure agony that burned in her eyes. Fathom could only watch as her lifeblood poured onto the ground. Grabbing the pearls, he begged for her life. He begged for her to escape the grasps of the void. Slowly, her injuries were covered up, and she looked up at him. Tears flowed from his eyes, and fell onto her, mixing with the tainted blood that covered Indigo. They couldn't say anything. There was nothing to say._

_The Queen was dead. Humpback was dead. Splash, Scallop, Sunset, and Eel were dead. Fathom's mother died with his father. Indigo was on the brink of death. Fathom himself was almost killed._

_On that day though, a small part of him did indeed die._

The sea-green dragon woke up with a start, sitting up. He was breathing heavily, and quivered intensely. The indigo dragon opened her eyes at the sudden movement. She saw her lover sitting there with terror on his face and immediately stood up. "Fathom. Fathom, what's wrong?"

Fathom looked at Indigo, still letting out shallow breaths. He didn't say anything for a bit. His fearful expression slowly faded away, replaced by sorrow. He turned to his mate, then hugged her without a word. And then he started crying. Sobs came from the Seawing, and tears gathered. In between sobs, he muttered, "I… I could have lost you… I lost them... I could have lost you… Indigo… What would I have done without you?..."

Indigo hugged him back with realisation, holding behind her own tears as the memories of the past resurfaced, and the pain she shared with her mate. "Fathom… Fathom… I'm right here… Calm down. Don't think of what could have become, for that will never happen. Focus on me. I'm right here…"

"But you almost weren't!" Fathom said, ignoring what she had previously told him. "You could have died!" He continued, still crying. Images of the bloodshed. Memories of the dragons. The look in their faces. The look on _his_ face. The cut in her throat. The taste of blood. The smells, the sounds. Endless memories. "My parents…. They're gone… I miss them so much… Indigo… it hurts… it hurts so much…"

"Fathom please, please, listen to me. I'm right here. You need to calm down. I'm right here…"

"You could have died, Indigo… Albatross… and Darkstalker…"

_Darkstalker. A name that would forever go down in history. Born under the three moons, destined to be the most powerful dragon in Pyrrhia. Fathom remembered when he first met the Nightwing hybrid. The flashbacks the party brought was agonising. Another animus. Another party. And more royalty. The only comfort he felt was of Indigo watching over him. Darkstalker lead him to the faithful tower. Indigo cared for Fathom. And that's when everything started to slide. Fathom started to care for Darkstalker. And that's when everything started to crumble. He learned about the scroll, the end of corrupt animus power. But the scroll was a lie, a false hope. Darkstalker only became more and more corrupt. Clearsight tried to help him, but it was futile. Fathom tried to talk to him, but it was hopeless. And Indigo had disappeared. The rage he felt when he realised it was because of Darkstalker burned in his memory. He was backstabbed by the Nightwing. Fathom thought they were friends, despite their arguments. But he was betrayed by the Nightwing. Darkstalker lied to him. Darkstalker manipulated him, twisting Fathom for his own personal gains._

_And then Arctic died. Arctic died to his own dragonet. Darkstalker used him as a play toy, just an item to show his power. Blue blood spilled on the stage that day, as the Icewing ripped out his own organs piece by piece. That day was the only day Fathom broke his promise. Clearsight was his friend as well, but unlike him, she cared. And she knew he had to be stopped. She had to end her own soul mate. So Fathom broke his promise. Darkstalker was invincible, Darkstalker was immortal, Darkstalker watched the future, and Darkstalker became cocky. Darkstalker knew that he was immortal. He had no reason to fear. He was to kill a queen, and was soon to be the King of Nightwings. He was the most powerful dragon in Pyrrhia. He had no reason to fear. But he did. Clearsight, with tears down her snout, put on the bracelet, and said her final goodbye, as Fathom willed Indigo to come back._

_The Kingdom of Night was never the same again. Clearsight was never the same again. And neither was Fathom._

Fathom continued sobbing. So many traumatic events, so many painful memories. He wanted to forget it all, to be able to move on. But the pain wouldn't stop. It wouldn't stop. "Darkstalker... He was my friend… He betrayed me… He tried to kill you… He tried to take over the world…" He trailed off, crying too hard. Fathom held Indigo tightly, trying to find comfort in her embrace, something that would stop the pain. Just the comfort that she was there in front of him, alive. He wept for the so many others he lost, he wept for the fear of his lover, and he wept for the memories of the times without worry. Slowly, his tears abated as he ran out of energy to mourn, and slowly, he let go of her. He was taking deep breaths, exhausted from his breakdown. Fathom looked at Indigo. He felt so empty inside, like there was a void. Memories burned in his mind, and the world felt so empty. He felt so alone. "Please… it hurts so much… the pain won't stop… Don't leave me… I need you Indigo, more than anything in the world, or else life isn't worth living anymore… Indigo… I… I love you… more than you could ever imagine… I need you… the pain never stops… Indigo… I'm scared… I'm so scared…" Fathom hugged her again, gently this time, and closed his eyes. "I love you Indigo… I'd do anything to keep you safe… I'm never going to leave you… Just promise… promise you won't leave me either…"

Indigo looked up at him and smiled softly. Then she gave him a gentle, loving kiss. "Of course I'll never leave you Fathom. I love you too, with all the passion in my heart. I need you, just as much as you need me. I know it hurts, but I'm always here for you, no matter the cost. I'll do whatever it takes to ease your pain, and I'll do whatever it takes to alleviate your suffering. I'm always here for you Fathom…"

"I promise."


End file.
